


Laurel Wreath

by twimatt



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drabble, Endless fluff, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 05:25:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twimatt/pseuds/twimatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluff, fluff, fluff, and more fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laurel Wreath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/gifts).



> First ever Hobbit fanfic! WOO! *pops champagne*
> 
> This one is un-betad, so I have to trust my own eyes and Word for the correct grammar. However, I do have a friend that I might ask for future betaing :)
> 
> Title is taken from a The Ark song, and *might* change in the future.
> 
> Other than that, enjoy!
> 
> This is for you, sis <3

Bilbo Baggins slowly opened his eyes, and blinked rapidly a few times while his eyes became adjusted to the morning light. He stretched lazily in the big bed, his hands fisting over his head, and yawned big, content to the thought of spending the whole day between the warm sheets. 

Well, until the small hobbit threw out his left arm only to notice that the usually occupied space was empty, and to make matters worse; cold.

He quickly scrambled out of his bed, and pulled on his most comfortable nightgown.

The bedroom door was closed which calmed Bilbo down a little. Thorin always closed the bedroom door on the days when he woke before Bilbo so he would not disturb the sleeping hobbit.

However, those days became rarer and rarer for each year passing since the dwarf had settled in the friendly hobbit hole. Usually the dwarf would wake up to the scent of newly baked bread and fried eggs.

He opened the round door, and peeked to his left. The hallway that way was empty. Taking two steps forwards, Bilbo peeked around the door to his right. Empty.

He looked in the kitchen, the restroom, the library, even the guest bedroom. But it was all empty. He was alone in his own home.

Bilbo had just started making breakfast when the sound of his front door opening and closing, accompanied by heavy footsteps echoed through the house.

Wiping his hands on a piece of cloth, Bilbo walked to the door to greet his lover a ‘good morning’, as Thorin was the only one in the whole of Shire allowed – and did – blunder inside in such loud manner.

“Good morning.”

The words seemed to startle Thorin, as he quickly moved both hands behind his broad back.

“Good morning, to you too.”

“Where have you been?” 

“Uh, just… out…side.

“O-okay.” Bilbo frowned, he couldn’t think of any reason for Thorin to go out this early in the morning. “What did you do that for?”

“I, um… I needed something.” The dwarf cleared his throat, seemingly nervous.

”Huh. What do you have behind your back?

Thorin stretched out his hand to reveal a bouquet of flowers that Bilbo recognized as those growing close to the river. The dwarf coughed, and shifted his feet, looking down at the floor while mumbling something incoherent for the hobbit.

“What did you say?” Bilbo asked.

“They’re...” another cough. “They’re for you. It’s your birthday, remember?”

“Oh. Yes, you’re right, it is my birthday.” He looked at Thorin, who had raised his head again, a smile breaking out on his lips. “I’m fifty!”

Thorin let out a laugh at the happy expression on his partner’s face, and ruffled around the brunet’s hair, and pulled him into a hug. “Yes you are, my little burglar. Happy birthday, my love. Happy birthday.”


End file.
